


alone (with my dreams of you)

by randomrubix (orphan_account)



Category: Pretty Little Liars
Genre: F/F, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-29 11:42:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8487976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/randomrubix
Summary: *set during alison's disappearance* Alison POV.An assortment of memories and an entirety of her own made-up scenarios haunt her almost every single night.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey I hope you're having a wonderful day :) This is my first story so reviews would be appreciated! Thanks, hope you enjoy!

Alison never thinks about her.

 

Well, not just Emily. It’s too hard to think about any of the girls. Not now, not when she flinches every time she sees a figure slinking around, always too close for comfort.  

 

Her dreams don’t seem to have the same agreement, however. An assortment of memories and an entirety of her own made-up scenarios haunt her almost every single night. In the day her fear is enough to keep her preoccupied, but in the dark she has nothing but her regrets to keep her company.

 

It’s not always bad though. Sometimes, the dreams are good. In the good dreams, there’s a warm, musty library and sunlight filters through the windows to warm her bare legs. There’s an open book on her lap and a warm body pressed against her side. She’s so close that she can smell her hair – coconut. Emily had always used the same shampoo. Alison remembers that she’d told her that once. Emily had gotten a rare, teasing smile upon her lips and commented how _odd_ it was that the blonde had noticed the smell of her hair. Usually, she would’ve brushed off the moment but for some reason Alison had let it happen. The smile that Emily wore for the rest of the day made it worth it.

 

The library dream isn’t always the same. Sometimes it’s the exact memory where Alison reads from ‘Great Expectations’ and Emily gives her that innocent smile with an equally innocent kiss. Other times her mind adopts its own creative license and Alison finds them kissing passionately, rolling about on the floor, feeling the spine of the forgotten book digging into her back. Those dreams feel particularly real and when Alison awakes from them she’s put in a sour mood for the next day because it isn’t her reality.  

 

Then there are the bad dreams. The dreams that cause her to wake up in the middle of the night, horrified with herself, cold sweat trickling down the back of her neck. The dreams that force her to accept that the only monster that had been in Emily’s life – sweet, sweet Emily with the chocolate doe eyes – was her.

 

In these dreams – no _, nightmares_ – there’s an empty locker room after school. They’ve just been swimming together, a lovely afternoon spent with just the two of them in the cool water. Alison always liked to watch Emily in the pool; in the water she lost all of the awkwardness she held on land and she moved like a mermaid, so effortlessly and gracefully in the blue. And Alison never told her, but she knew that the day the brunette learnt to own the land like she did the water that her days of reigning supreme were over. Because good grief, the blonde thought, who could ever compete with the natural beauty that was Emily Fields? One day, people were going to notice her. And she could never find it within herself to care about that very much. If one person deserved to have the world fall at her feet, it was Emily.

 

The air smells like chlorine and usually it would be a comforting smell as it reminds her of Emily, but in this scenario it makes her stomach twist into a thousand knots. Dream Emily looks at her with such confusion, such hurt – she stumbles back from Alison’s poisonous words and stares at the ground, waiting dutifully for the blonde to finish dressing so she can take her home. Every time Alison is aware that she’s dreaming and it’s like she’s screaming from the side-lines for her past self to just _not be such a fucking idiot_ but it never works and Emily always ends up heartbroken.

 

The evening after that dreadful day, she’d gone over to the Fields home with the intention of apologising. She’d never worked up the nerve to knock on the door. She’d stayed lurking in the shadows across the road, mulling over different apologies in her head, over and over. None of them would suffice. Nothing she said could take back the pain that she’d caused her mermaid. She needed a time machine, to go back and change what had happened between them. Alas, that was the one thing out of even Alison Dilaurentis’ control.

 

She wonders if Emily dreams about her. She wonders if she wakes up in the night, sweaty sheets twisting around her legs with memories of her (dead) love. Selfishly, she hopes she does. If Alison has to suffer through fragments of memory, shouldn’t Emily too?

 

Or maybe this is just her punishment. To be alone on the streets for the rest of her days, to catch glimpses of the girls and her brunette growing up and moving on without her. Yes, she deserves that, she thinks. Again, if anyone deserves to be happy, it’s her Emily.

 

(And maybe the only way for her Emily to be truly happy is without her).

 

It’s a lie, what she said before. Alison can’t help but think about Emily. Awake, asleep and everywhere in between, some form of the brunette invades her mind.

 

And, honestly? Alison wouldn’t have the will to live if it were any different. So her original statement ‘Alison never thinks about her' really needs some rehashing. 

 

Alison _always_ thinks about her.

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: @hisshissaria


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